Life — December 20, 1888 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AS BETWEEN QUAY AND BLAINE. sap the frog: ‘I would make a suggestion. I am bony and tough beyond question.” Said the stork in reply: “There's naught green in my eye, And I fancy you'll help my digestion.” . . . E renew to Inspector Byrnes assurances of our dis- tinguished consideration, in view of his conduct of the Daly shooting affair. A criminal “mystery” has had very small opportunity of remaining a mystery since Mr. Byrnes became chief of the detective force. . . . F the late George Scully, of Cherry Hill, had read Mrs. Sherwood’s book of etiquette and profited thereby, he would not, in all probability, be in his tomb, but, undoubt- edly, still an ornament to the society of Paradise Park. It appears that Mr. Scully was not invited to the birthday party given by Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Bergen in honor of their oldest daughter; and, following the code of social ethics in vogue on Cherry Hill, he felt compelled to throw several fragments of coal through the windows of the Bergen mansion while the party was in progress, and then to enter the hall and jump noisily upon the floor, meanwhile singing a coarse ballad in discordant tones. Of course, there was nothing left for Miss Bergen’s brother, Mr. John Bergen, to do but to go out and kill the intruder, and, that is why Mr. Scully's funeral came to be celebrated last week. It is rumored in Paradise Park that the Bergens will give no more entertainments this winter until after the execution of Mr. John Bergen. . . . AX untutored New Yorker recently chanced to attend a certain church in Boston—not many hundred miles from the Back Bay—and saw how the wily Bostonian acquires an English accent and combines culture with re- ligion. The clergyman, a young gentleman from England, discoursed in an impressive manner upon pwogwess, we- fawm, wetwibution and the wesawection, and informed his congregation that man cannot live on “ bwead" alone. The untutored New Yorker, who is accustomed to a certain seriousness in religious services, was somewhat surprised at what appeared to him an amusing imitation of a familiar British type. Hi8 impulse to encore, however, was at once checked by a glance at the faces about him. A solemn earnestness marked them all. Not an ‘r" was pronounced during the entire service, and the congregation seemed much impressed by the young gentleman's delivery. WE doubt if the Sun will succeed, at this late day, in its attempt to blacken the character of the late Pierre du Terrail, who has been called sans peur et sans reproche for a trifle of three centuries and a half, by referring to = Secretary Bayard as a descendant of the chevalier who was beyond reproach. The characters of such men as the Chevalier Bayard ought to be safe from the infamous__ attacks of anonymous journalists. > J" is really a pity that Australia isn’t a sovereign state in- stead of a dependency, because Mr. August Belmont, Jr., would be such a handy man to send there on a diplo- matic mission. Think how the Australians would rally around a man who had been persecuted for having fun with rabbits! The suggestion that young Mr. Belmont should visit Australia and introduce his methods of bunnycide on a large scale seems full of meat. . . . HE New Yorker who has been obliged to go around in umbrella and mackintosh for a month, after buying a fur-lined overcoat on thirty days’ time, has an undoubted right to consider himself aggrieved. . . . Bese HALL says the atmosphere of London is not worth breathing. Something like the heir to the throne. . . * NORTHERN LIGHTS—Those of the polar bear. . . . A PHILADELPHIA man draws a pension because he lost his temper at Bull Run. He was tripped up. “VERY MUCH RUN DOWN.” comicbooks.com